Morning Classes
by The Feisty Rogue
Summary: Harry and Ron go to their first lecture at University: Defensive Duelling 101.


Assignment 4

Magic Around the World Task: Write about a similar practice either already being used by, or being introduced to, another wizarding school or community.

Optional prompts:

(word) Betrayal

Roald Dahl Event

Room 183: Finishing school - Write about life after Hogwarts.

 **Morning Classes**

* * *

Harry slurped down his coffee, and anxiously glanced at the stairs. It was his first 'proper' day of university, not counting Freshers' Week, and he didn't want to be late for his 9am lecture.

"Ron!" he bellowed when the man failed to appear. A few seconds later, Ron stumbled into the kitchen, and swiped Harry's coffee from him.

Harry snorted, but let it slide. "Got your band?" he asked, and waved his wrist at Ron.

Ron stared gormlessly at him for a moment, then groaned. He thumped back up the stairs, and returned with the band around his wrist.

It was a green braid that had been given to them when they'd first arrived on campus. It kept track of how they were doing at uni. Green meant that they'd attended 90% of their classes, and weren't failing anything. A streak of blue indicated that they'd joined a club, red meant that they were failing and gold meant that they were top of their classes. There were more colours, with more meanings, but Harry hadn't bothered to learn them all.

"Who even invented these bloody things," Ron mumbled as they left the flat. His hair was in disarray, and Harry was fairly certain that his jumper was on backwards, but he decided not to mention it.

"Someone like Hermione," Harry retorted.

Ron laughed. "Damn, you're right. Well, at least we're here – and awake."

"Just."

The campus was flat, and they didn't have far to go, so it only took them a few minutes to reach their lecture hall. It was full to the brim, but they managed to grab a couple of seats on the edge of a row at the back.

The professor rushed in at two minutes to nine – Jane Sanderson, who specialised in Defensive Duelling. She didn't look like much, but Harry had learnt the hard way that it didn't matter what you looked like at all, only how good your spell casting was.

"Good morning," she cheerily announced. "This is quite a turn out!" She flicked her wand, and words appeared on the blackboard behind her.

"Now, this is Defensive Duelling 101. It is not optional, however, you may test out of it, as I understand that some of you have experience in this area."

Harry sat up straight. If he could get out of a 9am lecture on a Monday morning, he'd test out of whatever he could.

"Now, would anyone like to? I must warn you that a test means that you'll be duelling me!"

He stood. Ron stood with him. In a class of about 200, there were probably about a dozen of them that had done so.

"Well, well, well," Sanderson said, her eyes sparkling with delight. "If it isn't the Man Who Won! Come on down, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, and all of you that fancy your chances."

Harry flushed with embarrassment, but hurried down the steps to the podium. When he reached the bottom, he realised that it had been magically expanded into a duelling arena, complete with wards to prevent stray spells from hitting the students.

"We'll start with Mr Potter. Now, class 1 spells only – shields and harmless jinxes."

Harry nodded, wand in hand, and stepped into the arena. Sanderson grinned at him, and drew her wand.

"Ready?" He nodded. "Go!"

Harry immediately dived out of the way of a purple spell that streaked toward him. Silently, he returned fire, casting his trademark Expelliarmus, which Sanderson shielded against. They traded harmless spells, shielding or dodging, until she called a halt.

"Wrist!" she demanded. Harry thrust forward his arm with the green band wrapped around it. She tapped it, and one of the threads turned silver.

"Congratulations, you've passed this class," she said.

Harry grinned. "Thanks Professor."

"Instead, you've got to attend Defensive Duelling 201, which I think is just about your level. It's at 8am on a Monday – your timetable will have automatically updated."

Harry gawked at her. "What?" he asked weakly. "8am?"

Sanderson grinned evilly. "See you then!" she said, and shooed him off the stage to allow the next person to compete.

"Hard luck," Ron said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You know, I'm not sure I'm up to the same level as you. Might just stay in this class."

"Traitor!" Harry cried. "Betrayal and treason!" And he hexed him bright pink as revenge.

* * *

Word count: 728


End file.
